An Operating Theatre Medic in Port Said
by
Jack (Tex) Halliday
( ex cpl R.A.M.C.)

I was a twenty-two year old, married, corporal in the R.A.M.C serving my National Service working as an operating theatre technician at Catterick Military Hospital, Yorkshire, and my wife and I were expecting our first child on November 18. Life was good, my posting was reasonably near home, and I enjoyed working in the operating theatre. Sometime during September 1956, I was sent down to Mytchett, in Surrey, to take part in training exercises.

I was about to get into bed when the orderly sergeant burst in and said, "Corporal, get your kit together, you have to be on a train to London at 03:00 hrs". I was joined by the rest of the theatre team comprising: a surgeon, Major Cowen; anaesthetist, Captain Thompson (I think his name was); a sergeant, Les Runeckles; Geordie and another private, (can't remember his name). We were bound for the depot at Mytchett, because some of our kit was in store there. As there was no time to organize us in f.s.m.o. (full service marching order), Geordie, I, and the third guy quickly grabbed as much as we could carry, I tied the laces of my second pair of boots together and hung them round my neck. We were in complete disarray. We then jumped into an armoured vehicle and were whisked to Lyneham airport, where we were then taken to a shed, which had an earth floor, where we were to spend the next few hours. We had a meal and then tried to catch up on some sleep, lying on the earth floor, until we boarded a prop plane to an undisclosed destination, which turned out to be Malta. The flight was a slow nightmare, and almost every one was sick, due to the turbulence. I fell asleep and somehow awoke with a badly sprained ankle. "Just my luck", I thought! The main concern for me was the fact that I was not allowed to inform my pregnant wife or anyone else of the situation before leaving, as every thing was top secret.

I was issued with a 'Welcome to Theseus' muster card, (which I still have). It stated: Mealtimes; breakfast 08:00, dinner 13:00, supper 19:30, and a cup of tea available from 15:30 to 16:30. Table number 41.

A stroke of luck that night enabled me to leave the ship and ask a Maltese man, who had a small boat, to take Geordie and I across the Grand Harbour to the NAAFI, where I bought a letter card to send to my wife. I wasn't allowed to disclose the destination, but told her it would soon become apparent.

Malta was heaving with all three military services. The gut was the place for all to be, as all the night clubs, bars, etc., were down this street, with military police posted at both ends. We ventured down together. As this was our first experience of nightlife in a foreign country, it certainly was an eye opener for us! We witnessed drunks, fights, and prostitutes. One lady of the night was trying to help herself to a very drunk soldier quite near to us - what a wild night!

Next morning the carriers, Ocean and Theseus, slipped slowly out of the harbour, and all the personnel were lined up around the perimeter of the ships as they left Valleta for the open sea, where we discovered that our destination was Suez.

The Theseus was zigzagging across the ocean on its journey to Port Said, a tactic used by the navy, I was informed, because we were being shadowed by an unidentified submarines. As I learned some 40 years later, from the book 'Suez: The Seven Day War', written by A. J. Baker, the submarine was an American one, which popped up hoisting the US flag. The story was that the main assault force had also a brief interchange with the Americans that might have been more serious. The presence of a submarine was detected by one of the destroyer escorts, which promptly moved to attack. As it did so, the submarine surfaced and hastily hoisted a large United States flag before sailing on the surface down the convoy. Its presence was queried by the headquarter ship, HMS Meon, which signalled, "Why don't you come and join us"? To which the reply came, "No thanks, we're holding your coat this time"

Our eating arrangements were in the same area as the Commandos and we alternated with them for each meal. One morning I was asked to report to the Commando sergeant, who gave me a rollicking because, one of my men had left a small spot of jam on the stainless steel table. This should have been left for them as they left it for us, always immaculately clean, as also were the floor and seats. Big apologies from me, “It won't happen again".

Everyone was speculating and discussing what the outcome would be, and wondering if it would be the start of the Third World War. You could sense the tension and concern of the personnel in the air, not knowing if they would return. It was a very frightening experience, especially as we were all so young. Theseus came to a halt during darkness, and all we could see were planes coming in low. The skies were lit up with fires burning, smoke everywhere, and guns firing. The smell in the air was like plot night back home, which was strange as it was November 5.

Next day, November 6, at dawn I went up on deck to take a look around and was absolutely amazed to see the huge number of ships of different types as far as the eye could see.

The massive elevator was bringing helicopters up onto the deck from the hangers below, each one being fuelled and readied for the assault, the Commandos climbed aboard and with a deafening roar, one after another, they took off.

Within twenty minutes of them leaving, the helicopters were returning with casualties, and an order was given that we were needed below. This was the point where I witnessed my first real life war wounds. The first patient was one who had lost a lower leg; he was covered in sand so I did not know what nationality he was, but I think he was French as his language was different to ours. As he lay on the hangar bunk with forceps hanging from his arteries, he motioned that he would like a cigarette, which someone kindly gave him. As time went by there were so many casualties, that our sleeping quarters had to be used as a hospital ward. Some of them had terrible injuries, and after some time treating them it was alarming to discover our dressings were running in short supply. We wondered how this could be in a war situation, so consequently we had to remove dressings from some minor wounds, sterilise and use again, applying them wet.

The partly destroyed building across the road was the Casino Palace Hotel. We entered very cautiously following orders by someone we couldn't see, who had a torch, as there were no lights because there was no power on in Port Said. I remember ascending a very wide, wooden staircase to a long corridor, with very wide wooden floorboards, which were covered in broken glass and debris and rooms were on either side of the corridor. The next order was, "Put your kit down where you are and put your head on it and try and sleep until daylight". During the night I was awakened by a door opening behind me and a figure appeared in a long white gown. I thought," Am I dreaming or seeing a ghost"? Then a female voice said, "I want to go to the bathroom". I then realised that civilians caught up in the war occupied the rooms. Next morning further investigations revealed dead people in some of the rooms, and the beds had been urinated on to prevent us using them

The night seemed endless, sleep was virtually impossible, the broken glass on the floor offered little comfort, and intermittent gunfire echoed all around us for most of the night. When morning finally arrived, I took a look outside. To my horror I saw several dead Egyptian soldiers scattered about in various positions. They had been fully armed and each wore a flat bag, which contained what appeared to be a large oatmeal cake.

All the wounded were in a big room to the left hand side of the bar, while most were laying on the floor, some were on stretchers waiting to be attended to, and the dead were taken outside into the large garden to await burial. I remember seeing about four dead Commandos on stretchers with their green berets placed over their faces in a separate corner of the garden. I don't know where they were taken, but they were certainly not buried by us. Their bodies would probably be taken home at some point.

A large deep trench had been dug out of the lawn and a few bodies had been placed into it. The most traumatic part of my service in Port Said was carrying a beautiful young woman, on a stretcher, outside to be buried. As we could not walk into the trench, we had to roll bodies off sideways, and the sight and sound of bodies hitting each other brought tears to our eyes. It is a memory that has stayed with me ever since.

A small flat back, red and white Coca-Cola wagon backed up to the trench with several rigor mortised bodies. One body, whose hand was missing, had a nice gold watch on the forearm. A person nearby said, "I am having that watch". I quickly intervened telling him all removable jewellery had to go in a special box for the deceased effects.
Towards the end of my stay at the Casino Palace one of the reservists said, "Hey Tex, I have just been across the road to the water bowser", which was parked across the road, "and some bugger took two pots shots at me from the direction of the Casino Palace". On investigation an Egyptian sniper was discovered and brought out of the cellars and disarmed. He looked relieved to be out of it as he seemed to be tired and hungry, and he must have been in there for a few days.

A large room containing a stainless steel sink was the ideal place to make an operating theatre, but we needed an operating table and a washing machine for the laundry. We visited a small local hospital nearby, which was partly demolished, but the operating table was in good condition, so we took it with us. Sergeant Runeckles and I were given permission, with an armed escort, (to prevent looting) to enter any unoccupied house to find a good washing machine, which we quickly found in the second house we entered. We then had a good set up to carry out the many operations. Casualties of one form or another came in every day, and one of the main casualties, I remember, was a high ranking officer, (can't remember his rank or name) who had been sprayed with bullets from an automatic weapon, from his lower legs to the upper part of his body. Amputated limbs were taken outside to be buried deep in the sand within the perimeter walls, and as flies were a menace, this had to be done pretty quickly. We worked in this manner up until the time we left.

Unfortunately, due to our location, which was some way away from Port Said centre, we didn't get the chance to visit cinemas or shops or meet any of the local people. We stayed in the grounds mostly, but towards the end of our stay we were able to take a dip in the sea, which was very nice. I remember the time when two reservists were wheeling and dealing through the bars of one of the locked iron gates of the perimeter wall. We had a surplus supply of green army blankets and these were passed out through the gates in exchange for English money. The blankets were in demand with the Egyptian locals and this was a good racket for the two guys, until there was an attempted stabbing of them by one of the locals. I'm not sure of the details and how this came about, but it certainly stopped the illegal trading! One day some of our guys on the roof of our building were throwing sweets down onto the road for the local children, when a donkey and cart passed by with some sacks of corn/wheat which were spilling on to the road, and the children began to scoop up the corn/wheat where it had fallen amongst the donkey dung, when a passing Egyptian policeman, on foot, pushed them away with his rifle butt very roughly - these kids must have been starving to do that.

After all these years have passed, I was only 22 at the time and my wife had our son, Christopher John, on the 22 November while I was still out there, so I can never forget where I was.

Jack (Tex) Halliday
January 2002

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